Photographed Memories
by swanslikequeens
Summary: Henry remembers a time where everything was simpler.


_"The best way to show your love for those that are gone is to tell their stories."_

Henry sat on the steps of the curled staircase of the Mills' home. The oaken footholds were definitely expensive, smooth, and classy. You see, this was the sleek style of Regina Mills. She liked things to be the nicest for only the best—her son. Of course, she didn't mind the comfort either. And, well, maybe some left over for Emma. What Regina Mills really didn't like to admit was that she would have given the world for Emma. If the world hadn't been taken from her first, that is.

Days had passed. Henry was still thirteen, and despite all he had been through, all the traumatic and certainly dramatic situations he had undergone, he was still just a boy. A son to two mothers, a kid. He may have been a kid who had done miraculous things. But that didn't change fact, and fact was, Henry was just a boy. Not that he was ordinary, because he was anything but. Children are not yet mature enough to handle loss. Any loss, really, is a big loss. But a big loss, and emotional loss, a physical loss, can tear anyone apart, not just a child. Henry was just a boy.

In his hands was a picture frame. Inside the picture frame was indeed, a photograph. It was encased in a swirled silver frame, beautiful, in all mind. On display inside this frame, the photograph, was of Henry and his mother. Regina. Henry was about ten years old. He was wearing his favorite navy blue overcoat, and his grey and red striped scarf that Regina had bought him that year for his birthday. It was before his world has changed, and it was before he had discovered the storybook. Henry's head was leaning into Regina's figure, and she had her rosy cheeks nestled on his head. Her arms wrapped around his body, from the front and back. Their smiles were genuine, and true. Regina was in her black pea coat, along with a burgundy silken top and a black skirt. She had gloves on; the day had been cold. Henry remembered the day quite clearly, even without the photo.

 _"Henry, please? Just for me? It's the last picture I'll take! I promise you," Regina begged with her son, a pleading smile spreading on her lips. She had already taken so many of them today, and Henry had had enough; he just wanted the ice cream treat that was promised. Regina had no idea why Henry would want ice cream on such a windy and chilly day, but weren't ten year olds always irrational?_

 _Henry sighed dramatically, and Regina laughed, having triumphed._

 _"This is only because I love you, Mom," Henry defended his cause for relenting._

 _"And because you wanted that ice cream?" Regina teased her son further._

 _"Maybe..." Henry smirked._

 _"Wait... I want this picture to be of both of us. So we can have it. I even bought some picture frames that will work wonderfully with this." Regina held the camera to her chest, wondering what to do next. She wanted the picture of both her and Henry, but who would take it?_

 _"What's wrong?" Henry asked, sensing his mother's defeat._

 _"Well, there's no one here to take the picture of us," Regina admitted, before Henry took hold of her hand and pointed to a man walking a dog. A Dalmatian._

 _"What about him?" Henry turned to face Regina, who had an unreadable expression on her face._

 _"Yes... Dr. Hopper is a very kind man." Regina smiled warmly at Henry, and they walked closer to the cheery looking man._

 _"Dr. Hopper? I hope you don't mind our intrusion," Regina stopped him, and Henry petted the dog._

 _"Not at all, Regina, what can I do for you?" Dr. Hopper smiled, looking at both Regina and Henry._

 _"I was wondering if you would take our picture together, Henry and I." Regina held out the camera to him._

 _"What's his name?" Henry interrupted, still smoothing back the fur on the dog's neck._

 _"Pongo," Dr. Hopper answered, patting the dog's head affectionately._

 _"Mom can we get a dog?" Henry asked excitedly._

 _"I'm afraid not, sweetheart. I don't have the time to—"_

 _"But I could take care of him!" Henry interjected._

 _"Well... Let's discuss this later, alright honey? For now let's get the picture okay?" Regina pushed aside that matter. There was no way she would get Henry a dog no matter how much she loved him. It brought back memories of a woman who wore far too much makeup and had a terrible sense in fashion... Really, too many furs._

 _"Oh alright." Henry grumbled slightly._

 _Regina hugged Henry close to her side, and leaned her head on top of his. A click resounded through the air, and a flash._

 _"Thank you, Dr. Hopper." Regina took the camera as he handed it to her._

 _"Yeah, thanks Dr. Hopper!" Henry grinned cheekily._

 _"Call me Archie."_

 _Henry shook hands with Archie, and Regina giggled as Dr. Hopper continued his walk with Pongo._

 _"You have such manners, my little prince." Regina kissed Henry's forehead and squeezed his hand._

 _"If I'm a prince, doesn't that mean I get whatever I want?" Henry cocked an eyebrow at his mother suspiciously._

 _"Debatable, dear, little princes like you still have bedtimes." Regina tapped his nose lightly with her finger._

Henry had dropped the frame. His hands were shaking too hard. The glass in the frame had shattered, and scattered across the wooden floors. In the broken mess, lay the photograph. With still shaky hands, and gently picked it out from the glass shards and cradled it in his palms. He hadn't even realized he was sobbing until his tears were visible on the picture itself, magnifying their features. He rubbed the picture against his flannel, drying it from his tears. He half expected her to come running in at any moment, asking what was wrong. To hold him in her arms, and whisper that everything was going to be okay again. But that would never happen. Never again.

"Henry?" Emma's strained voice carried through the house. She had been aroused from her own state when she heard the crashing of glass, and sobs getting louder by each moment that passed. Henry didn't respond, and he didn't have to for Emma to know exactly what was wrong.

Emma descended the staircase quickly, and found a tear stained Henry looking up at her. The sight of her son crying like this made her want to do the same, like she had done for days on end. It was never going to go away. The pain would never relent. Emma had never expected to fall in love with Regina.

Emma engulfed Henry in her arms, letting him cry into her shoulder, his tight grip on her almost stifling. The only things he was holding on to were her, and this picture. Emma had seen this picture before, but hadn't asked about it. It had some significance...

"She.. she's..." Henry struggled to to even whisper.

"I know, kid.." Emma's voice broke, as tears threatened to release.

"I miss her too.. I always will. We both will... And it hurts like hell, Henry. It will always hurt like hell." Emma whispered. Henry continued to cry, still clutching to the photograph with his life.

"Tell me about the picture, Henry."

Henry took a step back, and looked down at the picture. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt and smiled down tearfully at the photo.

"She just wanted one last picture.. of both of us."

"Come on." Emma took Henry by the hand and led him to the kitchen.

"I know that I can't make hot cocoa as well as Granny can, but I sure can whip up a mean cup. We can talk."


End file.
